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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505237">more than nothing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellumGerere/pseuds/BellumGerere'>BellumGerere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ruthless calculus [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, FebuWhump2021, Hurt/Comfort, Porn With Plot, Reunions, What Have I Done, actual smut! can u believe it i sure can't</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:00:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellumGerere/pseuds/BellumGerere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After he hears of the Reaper invasion, Thane fears he and Shepard will never see each other again. He is pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thane Krios/Female Shepard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ruthless calculus [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>more than nothing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>lmao i had to send a Big Important Email today and i'm so anxious about it that i ended up writing my first piece of real smut in like. seven or eight years probably slksdkljfslkfjlk (it's pretty mild tho. not enough to up the rating. also if this is like Bad i'm blaming it on the anxiety lol)</p><p>so the scene with thane at huerta in me3 irks me for a lot of reasons, and i've been wanting to do my own take on it for a while - this seemed like the perfect opportunity. i'm filling a prompt for day 9 of febuwhump but using one of the alternate prompts; the original was 'buried alive' but i wasn't really feeling that one so i'm using alt prompt 2 which is 'i can't lose you too.' fitting here for a lot of reasons imo (though i did change the wording a bit to work better here)</p><p>one of the biggest issues i have with the way this plays out in-game is that there's no option for shep to say she's there to see him, and not kaidan. like i said in the notes for 'persona non grata,' i hate love triangles, and in some respects it felt like i was having one forced on me, so that's the main thing i wanted to fix. to that end, i do use some of the original dialogue from the scene, i've just reworked it a bit. title is a reference to 'waiting' by elsa &amp; emilie, which is a perfect song for their relationship in me3</p><p>also, just to clear things up since i'm posting this out of order - thane and celia are married (mostly for Legal Reasons), and he was able to sneak in to visit her when she was on alliance lockdownTM once, with james' help. these are both things that will have their own fics but don't at the time i'm posting this lmao -bel</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thane sends a message to Shepard a few days after he hears that the Reapers have reached Earth. He’s been holding off on it, partly because he doesn’t want to acknowledge the harsh truth—that despite her best efforts, no one is prepared for an invasion of this magnitude—and partly because he fears the worst. He doesn’t check the extranet, tries not to listen when the topic of the fighting comes up in the Huerta waiting room where he spends most of his time now. If he falls down the rabbit hole of trying to get information about her, it will never stop. Every day feels like an eternity, though, and the longer they drag on, the more convinced he becomes that he won’t hear anything from her. Even the idea of it stings, and he does his best to focus on what is in front of him—his relationship with Kolyat, stronger than he had ever dared to hope for—but to little avail. He falls into fitful sleep every night lost in memories of her.</p><p>Nearly a full week later, all of that changes. He’s standing at the waiting room window, as he tends to do most afternoons; his room doesn’t have the best view, and besides, it’s good for him to stay active, and to that end he runs exercises with himself, with his faint reflection in the glass. It’s earned him more than a few confused looks from the room’s other occupants, but he is past caring what they think. He is in the middle of one such exercise when he hears her voice—she says his name, and it is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, so lovely that for a moment he thinks he must be imagining it, until he turns around and she is standing before him.</p><p>She looks exhausted, there’s no way to avoid it. Even with her customary makeup, the circles under her eyes are prominent, and she’s dressed far more casually than she would usually allow herself to be outside of the Normandy, in leggings and boots and the oversized N7 hoodie that had previously only seen use inside her quarters. He can’t help it when his gaze darts to her left hand, or the relief he feels at the glint of silver there. Perhaps it was ridiculous to fear that she would forget him, or have second thoughts about their relationship, but even so, having that fear alleviated is a weight off his chest.</p><p>“Siha,” he says, savoring how the endearment feels in his mouth, and he wants to do a million things at once: take her into his arms, bury his face in her hair and whisper how much he’s missed her, how beautiful she is, kiss her until the both of them are dizzy with it. He does none of it. Instead he just looks at her, hoping that his expression will be enough to convey all of it. She’s always been good at reading him when others could not. “I heard Earth was under attack. I didn’t know you’d made it out.”</p><p>“I did. It’s—I—” It is rare for him to see her so unsure of herself, rarer still for her to allow this insecurity to show when there are others around to witness it. He can tell when he glances around them that people are staring; though they look away and try to hide it, it’s difficult not to recognize Celia, not with her scarring. “I was starting to think I’d never see you again,” she says finally, her voice quiet and hoarse.</p><p>She holds out her hands, an unexpected gesture, and he takes them, nearly brought to his knees at the feeling of her skin on his—she’s right, it has been far too long. “I sent a few messages after our meeting, but I suspect they never got past security.” Her mouth twists into a wry smile, and she squeezes his hands, and—having her here, after months of imagining her beside him, is almost too much. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>The question clearly catches her off guard, she opens her mouth to answer and then closes it again, brow furrowed. “What do you—I came to see <em>you</em>. I made Joker take me here the second I got your message.” She moves a little closer to him, her fingers twitching in his like she wants to move them, though she doesn’t. He understands the impulse; all he wants, more than anything else, is to cradle her face in his hands. “I thought about you every day when I was on Earth, and every day since I left it.”</p><p>It’s such a surprisingly vulnerable thing to say—in front of an audience, no less—that he has to blink a few times to stop tears from welling up. Whatever he had been anticipating from their reunion, this wasn’t it. “Celia.” She looks away at the sound of her name, and he knows she is doing the same thing. “I have been doing the same. I have only a few loves left, and you are my last. I—”</p><p>He’s interrupted, suddenly, by her stepping forward until there are only a few inches between them, and then the feeling of her lips on his. It’s all too short, and he can tell she is aware of all the eyes that must be on them, but when she steps back she is smiling, if only a little, and it is enough. “Well,” he says. “I see you want to make up for lost time.”</p><p>Her smile becomes strained at the words, lips pressing together in a manner all too familiar to him. It would be easier, he knows, if he simply didn’t mention his Kepral’s at all, but they no longer have the luxury of avoidance, of days where they can indulge in one another with little need for words. “I should warn you,” he continues, and the grin disappears completely, “that you may not want your final memories of me to be in this hospital. Kepral’s Syndrome is…not kind.”</p><p>“Then let’s go somewhere else.” She shifts to lace her fingers through his, accommodating as effortlessly for his fused ones as she had the first time they did so, and the press of cold metal grounds him once again. “We’re docked for a couple of days. I was hoping we could…spend a little time together.”</p><p>It’s not difficult to parse what she means, and he wants it too—wants it more than he can remember ever wanting anything. “I’d like that.” As soon as he says it, though, he feels a sort of guilt start to creep in; he is likely not the man she remembers, and he doesn’t want to disappoint her in any way, even though he knows by now that she is unlikely to care. “You should know that my cardiovascular system is not what it wa—mmm—”</p><p>This time, the kiss is longer, deeper, and she drops his hands to wrap her own around his neck, tracing over the ribbing in a way that makes the pit of want in his belly deepen. His own hands go to her waist, the small of her back, feeling the curve of her beneath the hoodie, and if the people around them weren’t staring before, they certainly are now, but he can’t bring himself to care. “You were saying something?” she quips breathlessly when they break apart, and he smiles.</p><p>“Yes. That I’ve missed you.”</p><p>~</p><p>She takes him to the Normandy after he signs himself out, and it’s disturbing to see just how much the ship has changed, even if, in just as many ways, it’s remained the same. The door to the cockpit is open, and Joker turns his chair around when he hears the airlock hiss shut, grinning when he sees Thane, hand in hand with Celia. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he says, and Thane inclines his head in acknowledgement.</p><p>“Joker. It’s nice to see you.”</p><p>“Nice to see you too. She’s been in a shitty mood since we left Earth.” He jerks his head towards Celia, who rolls her eyes. The fact that she’s willing to put up with the teasing, that she hasn’t even thrown a retaliatory remark his way, is proof of just how happy she is to see him, and it makes him feel lighter in return. Any worries about how their reunion would go have disappeared, and her hand is warm in his as she leads him to the elevator, informing the woman who has presumably taken over Kelly Chambers’ position—who is staring wide-eyed at the two of them—that they’re not to be disturbed for anything less than urgent. She nods, stammers out an agreement, and Thane catches her craning her neck back to look at them again as the elevator doors slide closed.</p><p>Barely a second has passed before he has her pressed back up against the wall, his hands on the zipper of her hoodie as he kisses her, and she sighs into his mouth, returning her hands to their previous position on his neck. Her fingers skate over his frills so gently that he can barely feel it, but he knows she’s there, and that alone is more overwhelming than even the strongest memories of their time together. She gasps his name as he moves his lips across her jaw, down her neck, and then laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “I have a bed, you know. That’s why I brought you here.”</p><p>“Do you?” She chuckles again in response, and the laugh turns into a moan when he traces the outline of her collarbone with his tongue. “Perhaps you should show me, then.”</p><p>It’s a rush to be like this with her—happy and carefree, like they’d been after their return from the Collector base, only concerned with each other’s pleasure. The elevator has long since stopped when they stumble out of it and through the door to her quarters, and this time it’s her who takes the lead, backing him up against the fish tank, her hands fumbling at the buckles of his jacket. She mumbles something about them being just as difficult to figure out as before, and he pushes her hands away, catching her mouth with his own again as they both work on their own clothes, laughing as they push fabric aside, breathing the same air.</p><p>Celia is so rarely open with her emotions in this way that her joy is infectious, and he can’t help but smile helplessly into the kiss when she does the same. By the time he’s rid himself of his clothes they’ve stopped kissing, foreheads pressed together, and she’s down to a standard-issue bra and underwear. He returns his hands to her waist, feels her shiver under his touch as he slides them around her back and up towards the clasp of her bra.</p><p>“I love you,” she says as if from far away, her voice thick with desire, and he returns the sentiment in kind, divulging her of the last of her clothing until he can pull her flush against him and feel her bare. He tangles his fingers in her hair, relishing in the softness of it, the weight of it in his hands as he steps away from the wall and urges her back towards the bed. Time is a luxury they do not have, he knows, but he is determined to see her sated now. They can take things slowly later—he fully intends to take advantaged of the ship being docked here for a couple of days.</p><p>They somehow make it down the steps without incident, and he pushes her gently back onto the bed, following her down to hover over her, as her hand on his arm demands. One of his legs pushes between hers, and he has to bite back a groan at how he can already feel her wetness on his thigh, at the sight of her, eyes slipping closed as she starts to grind up against him. “Siha,” he rasps, lifting one hand from the sheets to lift her chin with his fingers. “Look at me.”</p><p>She opens her eyes and her stare locks with his as he moves his hand down, pausing at her breasts to roll her nipples between his fingers, just to hear her moan again, and then further, shifting his thigh enough that he can push his fused middle fingers into her. Her cunt clenches down around him and she whines, a high-pitched desperate sound that he would have never thought to hear from her, and then she’s kissing him again, one hand on the side of his face to hold him against her. The other mimics his movements, sliding down her body to wrap around his cock, and he hisses. “Please,” she says, and he finds he doesn’t have it in him to deny her. “Please.”</p><p>He pulls his hand away and brings it to his lips, delighting in how her eyes widen when he sucks the taste of her from his fingers. He wants to put his mouth on her, wants to feel her come apart under his tongue again and again, but time is short, he reminds himself, and she needs him. She spreads her legs farther apart, and her hand on his cock is already guiding him into her, and they both moan together at the feeling of it. He had forgotten just how good it is—he can feel her stretching around him, warm and wet and tight, and she’s canting her hips up towards him, wrapping her legs around his waist. The hand that had been on him is rubbing at her clit, causing her to tighten around him as he thrusts, and the other is still on his face, stroking gently once again over his frills.</p><p>She opens her mouth, like she’s going to say something, but only a mewl comes out, and he takes a sort of pride in it, that he’s able to reduce her to this kind of wordlessness. Soon enough the thrusts come faster, each one pulling a noise out of her, and he moves one hand to her clit, pushing hers aside. She grips his arm again instead, nails dragging across his scales as she gasps and moans. It isn’t long before she cries out his name and tightens around him, her eyes fluttering as she comes, and he follows a moment later, groaning as he spills inside her.</p><p>For a minute they simply rest there, foreheads pressed together, and though her eyes are closed he keeps his open, drinking her in. He wants to remember every second of this; soon enough she’s going to be off fighting Reapers, and once again he’ll have only his memory to keep him company through the nights. Her lips are tilted up in a contented smile, and he can’t help but kiss her, let her feel his own smile against her lips. His hand comes up to brush her hair back from her face, and she opens her eyes to look at him, and he doesn’t think there’s ever been a more perfect moment than this.</p><p>~</p><p>He stays as long as he’s able. They’ll be expecting him to sign himself back into the hospital in only a few hours, so remaining on the Normandy overnight is out of the question; he can only hope he feels well enough in the morning to leave again, and that Celia isn’t called away from the Citadel in the meantime. He can tell she’s tired, but she refuses to sleep—instead they lay in her bed, facing each other, and talk about everything and nothing as their hands trace each other. Eventually, they fall silent. She ducks down, pressing kisses across his shoulder, and he strokes her hair. “You’re sure you can’t come with us?” she asks, her voice slightly muffled, and though he knows she’s not being serious his stomach sinks at the words.</p><p>“I wish I could.” She draws an unsteady breath, and when he urges her head up so he can look at her, her eyes are bright with tears. It hurts to see, hurts to know that he’s the one who put them there. If he were a wise man, he would have rebuffed her advances, not responded to them in kind, and saved her this pain—but he has never been wise, and he cannot bring himself to regret a single second of the time he’s spent with her. His wife.</p><p>“It’s ridiculous, I know,” she mumbles before he can say anything, swiping her hands angrily across her eyes. “It’s not like I could stay, not when people need me out there. It’s just—” Her breath hitches again, and he presses his lips to her forehead, eyes shut tightly to hold back his own tears. “I’ve already lost my planet. I don’t know if I can lose you too.”</p><p>There’s no way to respond to her that won’t sound trivializing, he knows, so he holds her instead, lets her cry against his chest while he kisses her hairline and whispers how beautiful she is, how much he loves her, how he will think of her every second she’s gone, even though they both know this is likely goodbye.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>since this one is a bit shorter, i'm probably adding a second chapter to it at some point - maybe a vidcall or something, i'm not sure - that would take place between this and priority: citadel ii, to sort of round it out a bit. i also do want to address the whole kaidan thing, i just don't think it should be done as part of this conversation. since it still stands on its own just fine, i'm going to mark it as complete, but this period of time in the games is one i'd like to revisit at some point, since i feel like there's a lot more that could've been done with it</p></blockquote></div></div>
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